Today i was called an "undercover asshole."

that's new.

Over tuna, lettuce, and a banana

Well, kids, this is it. I'm nearly broke yet again due to my inaction and subconscious unwillingness to get a j-o-b. I used to rely on plasma donation to pay for small bills and recreation, but now I flatly refuse since I learned that doing so sucks out my amino acids - effectively rendering all those hours in the gym useless, meaningless, and generally without value. This leaves me with little income and now I'm staring $85 in rugby fees in the face wondering how that's going to happen. At least I can't blame anyone, I bring it on myself.

In other news, the realization that I'm leaving for Florida in four Saturdays hit me full-force yesterday bringing oodles of excitement and general euphoria. Six months of paid adventure/vacation with only a 40 hour per week obligation to provide some service to Disney. Learning to surf, finding a way to sail, avoiding sharks, and making friends with celebrities shall be done. I love the feeling of being on the edge of something new - especially when that something new involves airport terminals. You can't not smile in an airport terminal...unless you're late...or you were randomly selected for additional screening...or someone stole your bag...or you foolishly agree to hold someone else's suspicious black parcel while they "run to the restroom"...but other then that, smiles abound in the airport.

It also hit me yesterday how many things I want to do, and how life isn't really formatted to allow it. Beyond my plans of bull running, traveling, cruising, island ownership, and heroic ends - I also find butler academy (http://www.butlerschool.com/) extremely enticing, tho very pricy ($15,000 for an eight week course), as well as chauffeur training (NYFD trains/hires chauffeurs to operate the trucks. I think. Crazy.), personal protection, firefighting, athletic training, bartending, sailing, and gardening. I could spend a few years getting all the training, sure, but I could never really experience life in one of these roles as they require a loyalty and dedication that doesn't lend itself to trading managing an estate for a stint aboard a yacht in Australia.
It's also an interesting problem to think of class status. My family has been quite successful in attaining a comfortable position monetarily - something I am definitely thankful for and respect. However, pretty much all of my wild schemes involve some service job, and nothing (save personal protection at a high level) even flirts with a six figure salary. I know my parents are probably ok with that, and I'm ok with that - but it still seems strange to think of it as a step "down." Aren't children traditionally supposed to keep pressing upward through the social jello in a quest for more security and even more-improved lives for their own posterity? Hmmm...

O, and if I have time before I leave for florida -between tests and rugby - I'm learning to salsa. Tango is a little too bubble-encroaching for me, I'm a-thinking...for now anyway.

If I don't know you, you're welcome to buy my car. :) Fire me an email and we'll discuss it.

O, and I have a wedding fund. Certain somebody's are getting married in May...they happen to live in canada making it mucho expensivo to get there. So yah, if you find $800 under your couch, I know where you can spend it. Haha, mk enough begging and mooching. Off you go, vaminos!

Good Days are Made of Mail

Let's see, that would be three pieces of good-quality mail I got today. One of which was a tiny, blue laminated slip informing me of a package. Package? Valentines Day is still a little ways off, and I'm not expecting anything...

A quick glance at the label: BMW NORTH AMERICA INC.

And at this point I start screaming, check my pants, and start screaming again. I didn't expect a brochure in response, much less a package. After much comotion and gathering of friends and neighbors, I proceeded to tear into my parcel - wild thoughts of car keys and rare jewels bouncing around in my head. Alas, there were no keys nor instructions where to pick up my beloved M3. Instead, my hand held a neat, black box emblazened with BMW and a smattering of German enclosed in bubble wrap. The box contained a collector's model M3 Cabrio on a stand and a letter signed by Edward A. Robinson, CEO of BMW Americas Region.

::

Dear Matthew,

Thank you for your letter and your enthusiasm for BMW. Having a recent college graduate and a pending hopeful graduate, I can understand the challenges of today's business environment after dedication to four years of study. I'm sure you'll be very succesful in whatever field your career develops.

As I also reflect on today's economy, I know you can appreciate my not being able to satisfy your request. Hoipefully, the enclosed token will keep your spirits for BMW alive and, when the time is appropriate, you will think of BMW to satisfy your driving pleasures.

Thank you for your continued interest,
Best Regards,
(signature in INK)

::

Haha, well it makes me happy. And as far as a PR stunt goes, it worked - i'll definitely be thinking of BMW to satisfy that driving pleasure.

Next up: Ferrari, Lambo, and Mercedes

I love the sensation of pushing my body to the limit: the point where my mind stops its whispered complaints and my lungs gasp automatically for air they're not sure what to do with, my stomach convulsing in rebellion. Such a feeling of accomplishment and victory that comes with simply not quitting. My morning workout was good, rugby conditioning even better, and now as I munch the fuel for my evening workout - everything hurts but feels really, really good.

I am 90% sure I'm going to switch my major from English to Athletic Training. Shocking, I know. Basically, my dad mentioned something about it and I gave it about 2 seconds thought before dismissing it as crazy talk because of all the sciences involved (not strong points for me). But a couple days later it hit me as kind of silly not to pursue it what with my great level of interest in the subject and passion for the area of fitness. I love to write, and always will but have realized that I am really not seriously interested in writing as a career. Plus, the training and knowledge could come in very handy if I enter the field of EMS/firefighting - and I can't deny the security that comes with a degree in a growing field as opposed to english which is very open-ended and affords few secure positions.

I can't find my headphones -- might they be behind my desk? Hmm? Perhaps hidden in the shadows behind my desk? I think they might be. Woop, and there they are.

I am officially musically frustrated. Some people absolutely need a coffee fix every day, others enjoy chocolate or collect movies. Me? I am all about music and I find my collection with a serious crater due to computer crashes and hard drive failures. I lack the funds to seriously begin replacing the lost gems of my collection and sample the latest offerings from the world's artists, hence musical frustration.

The seahawks...yeah...it's disappointing to say the least, and I personally blame the officiating, number 86, and what turned out to be home field advantage for the steelers. But, to sit and stew about it isn't the answer - it's time to get ready for next season.